Pirates of the Caribbean: Aqua de Vida
by poorpiratelass
Summary: Sequel to Bloody Water. The race is on to find the famed water that can give the drinker eternal life. But Jack Sparrow needs a ship… and Hector Barbossa needs a map. Enter Cecily O'Connor and Sao Ling. ON HIATUS
1. Returning to Singapore

Pirates of the Caribbean: Aqua de Vida

Summary: Sequel to Bloody Water. Captain Hector Barbossa is determined to find the Aqua de Vida even if it kills him – but he's missing one very important thing: a map. Hoping to get his hands on another set of charts, he calls on Sao Ling, the daughter of Sao Feng, who has inherited his position in Singapore. But in order to convince her to help him, he'll have to convince her that her father's death during the quest to free Calypso was _not_ his fault. Meanwhile, Captain Jack Sparrow is still without ship and crew – but at least he has the map to Aqua de Vida, and his trusty compass. However, when his compass takes him to a ship and a crew instead of the famed fountain, Jack finds himself bargaining with old comrade Captain Cecily O'Connor in hopes of procuring her aid in discovering the Aqua de Vida. The subsequent adventures reconnect them with Admiral James Norrington and Elizabeth Turner – and the result is the beginning of drastic changes in the Royal Navy, and so the Caribbean.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize (unless, of course, you recognize it from Bloody Water. Then there's a chance I might own it.)

AN: This story follows the events of Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water, as well as some of the events of the third movie, namely the freeing of Calypso. I plan to explain what happened between my two stories throughout the beginning chapters. If anyone feels confused, please don't hesitate to say so in a review, and I will try and clear things up.

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Chapter 1: Returning to Singapore

Dressed in his usual gaudy attire – long coat, wide brimmed hat, and a capuchin monkey perched on his shoulder – Captain Hector Barbossa strode down the gangplank of the _Black Pearl_, accompanied by several members of his crew. The docks were dark and silent, as was normal for the area. The Sao family kept a tight ship. Out of all the ports in the world, Singapore tended to have the best behaved pirates.

Barbossa was actually rather impressed by the relative calm of the port. Ever since Sao Feng's death, he had wondered how the Sao family had succeeded in keeping control of Singapore. After all, Sao Feng had left behind only one heir: a daughter.

It wasn't that he thought women couldn't handle the demands of a position like the one the Sao family held in Singapore. Barbossa had had enough experience with female pirates to know that gender had nothing to do with success in piracy. Mistress Ching was an impressive pirate lord who had never once been threatened with an uprising. Cecily O'Connor had been a fearsome pirate commodore who had kept amazing control over her unruly fleet. And the last venture Barbossa had found himself embarking on would have met with little success if it hadn't been for the wily Elizabeth Turner.

However, Barbossa had met the men Sao Feng's daughter was expected to reign over, and from what he could tell, they weren't exactly open-minded when it came to the fairer sex. For this young woman to keep control over her men, she must be rather impressive.

Captain Barbossa absentmindedly stroked Jack the monkey's fur as he made his way through the twisted maze of docks. Although he would never let on, he was mildly concerned about the turn things had taken recently. Ever since the ill-fated journey to free Calypso had come to a close, things aboard the _Pearl _had been rocky to say the least. His crew had been tempted with the promise of riches and eternal life, only to have their hopes snatched away from them almost immediately.

So he had come to the pirate lord of Singapore – a title that perhaps meant very little to the rest of the ocean, since she had no seat on the Court of the Brethren – to beg for her help. And begging was something that he was certain he would have to do. She could not know all the details of the quest to free Calypso, nor could she know exactly how her father's death played out. Being as connected to the whole catastrophe as he was, Barbossa would be nothing less than floored if she _didn't _blame him for Sao Feng's untimely demise.

He strode purposefully up to the heavy wooden door that led inside the Sao family bathhouse, flanked by Marty, who was looking fearsome despite his short stature, and Pintel and Righetti, whose eyes were darting about nervously.

Before he could even knock, the door swung open and Barbossa found himself face to face with a rather scrawny Asian man who had thin black hair in a long braid and a very prominent cataract over his left eye. He recognized the man at once.

"Captain Tai Huang," he greeted Sao Feng's right hand man and former captain of the now sunken _Hai Peng_.

The other man's eyes narrowed. "You are not welcome here," he announced.

"Why don't ye let Lady Sao decide that fer herself," Barbossa returned in his heavy sea brogue, smirking and raising his eyebrow at the man.

Tai Huang stared at Barbossa for a moment. Then he motioned to one of the guards beside him. The man approached him, and Huang murmured something to him in Malaysian. Whatever he had said caused the man to go scurrying off into the depths of the bathhouse.

As the rest of the assembled men stood silently in the bathhouse entranceway, Captain Barbossa attempted a rather awkward smile at Tai Huang. The man glared steadily back at him, and Barbossa gave up all hopes of any friendly behavior between the two of them.

A few minutes later, the man returned to the entranceway, rather breathless. He bowed respectfully to Tai Huang and, still facing his captain, announced in poorly pronounced English, "Lady Sao welcomes Captain Barbossa to her chambers."

Barbossa smirked at Tai Huang, who sneered in return. He took a step forward into the bathhouse, his men following him. The messenger held up his hand to stop him. "Unarmed," he continued. "And alone."

Tai Huang's sneer broadened as Barbossa stared at the messenger. He shrugged his shoulder, and Jack the monkey leapt from his perch, landing on Righetti's shoulder instead, to the other man's great discomfort. Then, obviously annoyed, Barbossa roughly removed all his weaponry and tossed it at the doorman who was waiting to take it. Barbossa spread his arms and gave the messenger a rather ironic look, as if to ask whether or not he could continue on into the bathhouse. The messenger nodded, and turned to walk deeper into the building, motioning for Barbossa to follow him.

Alone and unarmed, he followed the messenger across the steamy room that was lined with warm baths. The baths were stuffed full of men, some large, some small, and some who had been in the bathhouse for so long that they had started to grow barnacles. Seemingly unfazed by all this, Barbossa continued following the man through the hot, damp room, beyond a raggedy curtain ruined by the steam, and down a long hall. They reached a doorway hung with long strands of beads, and the messenger pushed them aside, gesturing for Barbossa to enter the room.

With a nod and another rather awkward, less than sincere smile, Barbossa strode through the doorway. The messenger said nothing to him, only let the beads fall back into place and marched off down the hall. Barbossa glanced around the chamber he'd entered with a raised brow. It was a sitting room of some kind, with a low table, and several cushions on the floor. He was the only soul in the place.

As he surveyed his surroundings, he was suddenly startled by a feminine, Malaysian-accented voice from behind him that announced, "Captain Hector Barbossa. What a surprise."

He swiveled in the direction of the voice. As he turned, he heard the click of a pistol. Coming to a stop, he found himself staring at a young woman who was steadily training a gun at his head. He judged her to be in her late twenties, no older. She stood in the corner of the room, several feet away, nearby another door. Her black hair was pulled up on top of her head and plaited in a long braid that traveled down her back. Her large, owlish brown eyes and long dark lashes were nearly identical to those of the late Sao Feng.

"Welcome to Singapore," she said. Her voice was cold, flat, and anything but welcoming.

Barbossa mustered up a smile. "Lady Sao Ling, I presume." His voice had become syrupy sweet, and his smile was almost simpering. "A pleasure to meet you at long last, m'lady."

He bent at the waist in a rather showy bow. She was not impressed or softened by the act. Barbossa took a good look at her as she stared silently at him. Like her father before her, she was tall, lean, and heavily tanned. She had his eyes, as previously mentioned, and there was quite a bit of the man in the rest of her face as well. There were even a couple long jagged scars traveling out of her mandarin collar and up her neck, ending finally at her high, well defined cheekbone.

She eyed him coldly from the other side of the room, her hand not once faltering as she gripped the pistol. Her eyes traveled from his thick boots, to his green overcoat, to his weathered face. She took in his graying, ragged auburn hair, his large bulbous nose, his rather scraggly beard, and his calculating blue eyes. Her face still hard and cold, she asked, "What is your business here in my bathhouse, Captain Barbossa?"

The tone of her voice made it clear that if he gave the wrong answer, he was going to be shot in the head. Barbossa clung to his simpering smile. "I've come to ye with a proposal, m' dear Lady Sao," he announced. "I desire what can only be found with yer late, most noble father's revered charts – I desire the Aqua de Vida."

He weaved his usual 'death or glory' charisma into the words, but his charms were wasted on Sao Ling. She continued staring at him coldly. His simpering smile began to falter. Her father, though cold, cruel, and unpredictable, _was_ known to smile every once in awhile – even if the smile was meant ironically. Barbossa doubted that a smile had ever crossed Lady Sao's face – or that one ever would.

"My late, most noble father's revered charts were given to one called William Turner," she announced, her deadly eyes still fixed on his face. "I understand he was under _your_ command."

"Ah, yes," Barbossa agreed, attempting amiability. "However, it turns out we had a traitor in our midst – a traitor called Jack Sparrow. I assume the name strikes a chord with ye?"

If she had reason to either despise or like the man, she gave no indication of it. A slight nod was the only change made in her demeanor. "I know the name."

"Well, then ye know his reputation," Barbossa replied. "A man of lower caliber I'm afraid ye cannot find. The ruffian made off with yer beloved father's charts, and left me crew and I high and dry. And so, I've come to ye, yer most noble ladyship, in hopes that ye may assist me in obtainin' another method of navigation."

Her lip curled back in a purely visual snarl. No sound accompanied it. "You have lost my father's charts?" she demanded coldly, each syllable vibrating with an icy fury. "My noble father's most revered and valuable charts? They were priceless! And _you_ have lost them?"

Barbossa winced. Lady Sao took a step closer to him. "Much worse," she went on angrily. "You have allowed them to fall into the hands of Jack Sparrow? A man my father despised? Who paid him great insult? This complete disrespect to my beloved father's memory is nothing short of unforgivable! I should shoot you!" Her grip on the pistol tightened, and she took yet another step closer to Barbossa. "I should shoot you now."

"Now, now, there's no need fer that, m'lady," Barbossa replied, taking a step back. He attempted valiantly to hold onto his simpering smile. "_I_ meant no disrespect to yer father's memory. Jack Sparrow on the other hand…"

"You expect me to believe the word of a man suspected in my father's murder?" she interrupted him, her voice growing colder and deadlier by the second. Her fury was so intense that Barbossa found himself wincing under every word that fell from her lips. "A man who led my father to Calypso and so to his demise? I have no reason to trust you, Captain Barbossa. Yet my reasons to shoot you seem always to be multiplying."

"I can explain all ye accuse me of and more," Barbossa returned, his head held high. "Were ye to give me the chance. I suppose I could not blame ye if ye shot me now. However, with the facts so near at hand, it would seem to me pullin' that trigger would not exactly be to yer benefit."

Her eyes narrowed. She didn't lower the pistol. "Talk quickly, Captain Barbossa. My patience begins to wane."

His smile returned, but only briefly. Then he hung his head in what was supposed to look like sorrow. "Lady Sao, yer father was wrongly led to believe that the goddess Calypso was trapped within the mortal confines of one Elizabeth Turner. Unfortunately, he was gravely mistaken. When her husband, Captain William Turner of the _Flying Dutchman,_ received the news that Sao Feng had kidnapped his wife and was holding her on the _Empress_, he attacked – and yer father was tragically killed in the battle."

Her eyes narrowed even more, and hardened. "I would have thought," Barbossa went on. "That yer dear friend Tai Huang would have told ye this."

"What makes ye think he did not?" she asked dangerously. "What makes you think he did not tell me all this and more? What makes you think he did not tell me that _you_ led my father to believe Elizabeth Turner was Calypso?"

Barbossa winced. He had been afraid of that.

"You have the nerve to return here to Singapore, to _my_ bathhouse, and request _my_ help after what you have done?" she thundered, taking another step closer to him. Her face was full of fury. "You, who have misled my father in every way? Who orchestrated a break in at my great-uncle Sao Chan's temple? Who gave the wrong woman to my father and consequently brought the wrath of the _Flying Dutchman_ down upon him?"

"Now, now, I'm afraid ye mistake me, Lady Sao," Barbossa simpered. "I am not so big and bad as ye've made me out to be. These were mistakes that ye speak of, never meant to bring harm to yer father. The whole thing was just a… well, a big misunderstanding, that's all."

"A misunderstanding?" she snapped. "A misunderstanding, maybe, but a misunderstanding that got my father killed! Excuse me if I am not sympathetic to your proposal, Captain Barbossa. Excuse me if I pull this trigger and bury a bullet between your eyes!"

She took yet another step closer to him. This proved to be a mistake. Captain Barbossa suddenly seized her wrist in a painfully tight grip, yanking her arm to the side, forcing her to aim the gun at the floor. His other hand grabbed her by the throat, and he slammed her into the wall. "Excuse me if I don't just stand by and let ye shoot me in the face," he sneered, leaning in so close their noses were almost touching. "Yer father was a headstrong, hasty fool who thought he could convince Calypso to bestow favor on him – and force her if she refused. His death was a result of his own ambition and self importance, nothing more. Now, I have a proposal that could save us both from similar fates. I suggest ye listen to it."

Sao Ling returned his sneer. "You have made a very dear mistake in laying your hands on me."

He raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, her knee flew up into his groin. His grip on her loosened as he winced very noticeably. Sao Ling brought her head down hard against his, causing him to stumble backwards, and then shoved him with enough force to send him staggering halfway across the room, where he collapsed in the middle of the floor. Immediately, she raised her gun and pointed it at his head again. She took one step closer and no more, having learned her lesson. "Who did you think you were dealing with, Captain Barbossa? One of my father's concubines? He trained me very well. I could kill you with one hand, if I wanted to. However, I think I will settle for shooting you. I believe it will be very satisfying to watch your brains leak out your forehead."

"Then ye have no interest in livin' forever?" he asked, getting back up on one knee. His blue eyes burrowed into her brown ones. "No interest in sailin' the seas fer eternities to come? The great, immortal Lady Sao, last lord of the Sao family?"

She sneered again. "And if I was interested? Why do I need _you_? You have lost the charts my father gave you. I have no need for you. It is _you_ who have the need for me."

"No need fer _me_?" Barbossa asked, highly affronted. "M'lady, although I hold ye in the highest respect, I'm afraid ye need me every bit as much as I need ye. Ye have never sailed out of these seas. Ye do not know the Caribbean. Ye do not know yer opponent. Ye do not know how to deal with Captain Jack Sparrow – and trust me, ye _will_ have to deal with Jack Sparrow. We will need charms and special weapons to ward off the monstrous things guarding the Aqua de Vida. Where do ye propose to get those things? I know where – do ye?"

She chewed the inside of her mouth, still pointing her pistol at him. "I'm afraid, m'lady, that ye don't." He stood and approached her, stopping right before the barrel of the gun. "Ye know the way, m'lady. _I_ know the territory."

Lady Sao still did not look willing to accept his proposal. "Yer father's death was unfortunate," Captain Barbossa pushed on. "And I regret the part I played in it. But the blame does not belong on me shoulders."

There was silence in the sitting room as Lady Sao debated whether or not to pull the trigger of her pistol. Finally, after several seconds, she spoke. "Where in fact the blame deserves to lie is yet to be decided," she returned coldly.

Barbossa inclined his head in a show of respect that was hardly believable. He stood silently, awaiting her final verdict. She continued to stare at him for a little while longer. Then, without her cold expression changing in the slightest, she slowly lowered her gun. "All right, Captain Barbossa," she agreed. "We will find the Aqua de Vida together. I will do my best to find another set of charts. And you will be my guide around the Caribbean."

He gave a brisk nod and extended his hand. "We have an accord then, Lady Sao?"

"Aye, Captain Barbossa," she replied, shaking his outstretched hand. "We have an accord."

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	2. Wayward Compass

Pirates of the Caribbean: Aqua de Vida

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. Don't sue me!

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Chapter 2: Wayward Compass

Jack Sparrow frowned at his compass as he propelled the small dinghy towards the island looming before him. He glanced over at the bamboo charts on the floor beside him, still frowning. Then, long dark dreadlocks swishing around his shoulders, he returned his frown to the compass.

No matter what the charts said, it was quite clear that his compass disagreed with them. His compass was in fact directing him directly into the harbor of… Tortuga.

While Jack rarely could get his fill of rum and saucy wenches, at the moment he felt that eternal life was his most pressing desire. So it puzzled him to no end as to why his compass was directing him to Tortuga, a place that was less likely to extend his life than it was to end it.

"I _am_ in the mood for rum…" he muttered to himself, tilting his flask over to reveal that not a lick of rum was left in the cavity. He ducked underneath the flask, his mouth wide open and gave it a good shake. Still nothing, not even a drop.

"Why is the rum always gone?" he asked himself, tossing the empty flask carelessly over his shoulder. It landed on the bottom of the boat with a loud clunk. "Ah, yes, because you are always quaffing said delicious and delightfully desirable beverage whenever you lay eyes on it… understandable, of course. _Does_ make finding Aqua de Vida a bit more difficult…"

The dinghy floated into the harbor as Jack continued to mutter to himself. Finally reaching the dock, he tied up his teeny vessel and leapt out onto the dock rather unsteadily. Surveying the sights before him, he almost took off in the direction of the Faithful Bride… almost.

His eyes had suddenly alighted on a dark ship moored in the harbor that contrasted mightily with its bright red sails. Jack Sparrow knew that ship. He knew that ship all too well. And quite frankly, it wasn't an entirely pleasant sight.

Because now he had an inkling as to why his compass had directed him to Tortuga. A faint and disturbing inkling. And this inkling seemed to be suggesting that his compass had given him a gentle push in the way of a pirate ship and a former pirate commodore because, assumedly, deep down Jack Sparrow wanted to see this former pirate commodore. Which was all just plain ridiculous because he didn't want to see this former pirate commodore. Not unless seeing this former pirate commodore would involve possibly shooting, stabbing, or even merely humiliating said former pirate commodore… which, in all fairness was likely cause for his compass to point him this direction.

At times, Jack Sparrow hated his tendency to think in such a roundabout way.

But let us consider. His compass sensed that he wanted to see the former pirate commodore… or he wanted to see her hideously offensive ship, or her rowdy crew of miscreants and misfits. Or perhaps all three. And perhaps he didn't want to see them so much as use them. Because Jack Sparrow had lost his beloved ship, the _Black Pearl_ – yet again – and in order to reach the Aqua de Vida he would in fact need more than a dinghy. He would need a ship and a crew. He didn't really need a captain he supposed, but he also supposed that her presence would be a necessary evil that he would be forced to contend with in the pursuit of greater things… greater things for himself, that is.

This was the reason he found himself headed towards the gangplank of the _Bloody Sunrise_ early that morning instead of stopping in at the Faithful Bride for a sunrise pick-me-up. He would have to deal with Captain Cecily O'Connor and convince… or guilt trip… her into taking him where he _really_ wanted to go.

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Cecily O'Connor blinked awake that morning and stared at the wall she was facing. It was an unfamiliar wall, which meant that she was in a room over one of Tortuga's many bars… and that when she rolled over, she'd be in for a surprise.

Sighing heavily, she rolled over onto her back, cradling the sheets to her bare chest, and glanced to the side. Beside her lay a familiar face. She was sharing the bed with old friend and occasional bedmate, Captain Skip Worchester.

Last night came rushing back to her. The drinking, the surprise meeting with Skip, the second bout of drinking, the making out in the alleyway, and then the sex in the rented room. Same old story on a different night… it was even the same playfellow.

She sighed again. For some reason, this latest conquest did little to make her happy. Cecily had always been a bit of a whore – as a very wise man had once told her, men were her weakness. If a man came along with the right offer, and the right look, she just couldn't resist spending at least one night in bed with them. Her trysts… as that same wise man was fond of calling her one-night stands… had never bothered her before. She had actually reveled in them, considering them to be a source of pride, almost. After all, men were always boasting about their notches in their bedposts… was it so wrong that she did the same?

But lately, nothing felt the way it used to. And she… well, she… well, it was just no use thinking about it. Lord knows she wasn't going to admit to herself what her problem was anyways.

As quietly as possible, she slid out from under the sheets and did her best to dress without waking Skip. However, her efforts were futile. Just as she was finishing, she heard the old bed creak, and Skip sat up, giving his dark shaggy hair a shake and blinking sleep out of his brown eyes. "Sneakin' off already?" he drawled groggily, his voice dripping with the street brogue of lower-class London.

"Sorry, darling," she replied in her heavy Irish accent. "But me crew's impatient to return to pillagin'. Got to leave." She gave him a wink.

"Doesn't mean ye can't say goodbye," he pointed out.

She shrugged and gave him a terse half smile. "Not in me bones, darling. Ye know me."

"All too well," he returned with a rueful smile and a shake of his head.

She grinned suggestively and arched her eyebrow. "See ye when next ye make port?" he asked.

Cecily shrugged again. "Maybe. We'll see, Skip, darling."

He leaned towards her almost expectantly, a rather cocky smile on his face. A smirk twice as cocky as his crossed her lips and she relented, leaning over the bed and kissing him once on the mouth. There was a warm friendliness on both ends, but nothing more.

Saying goodbye to Skip, she strode languidly out of the room, ambled down the steps, and meandered out into the streets. She walked at a rather careless pace back to the harbor. When she boarded the _Bloody Sunrise_ at last, she was greeted by an unusually businesslike Marjorie Oakridge, first mate aboard Cecily's vessel, and known to be a rather close friend of hers as well.

The tall, stocky, dark haired woman approached her immediately. "Cap'n," she greeted Cecily with her thick street British accent. "Catch up with Skip last night?"

"Aye," Cecily returned, allowing herself a slight smirk. "All quiet aboard me vessel?"

"Yes and no," came the reply. "The night passed without even the slightest problem, but the dawn brought about a rather unexpected visitor."

Cecily's smirk faded. All trace of humor left her face. "What sort o' visitor?" she demanded.

"An old comrade of ours," Marjorie replied. "He's awaiting an audience with ye in yer office."

"Name?"

Marjorie's aqua eyes met the suspicious, bright green ones of her captain. "Captain Jack Sparrow, Cap'n."

Cecily snorted. "Not exactly a captain anymore, is he?"

"He insists upon the title, Cap'n."

"O' course he does. Well, I suppose I shall have to see him," she sighed. "After all, I did cost him his ship."

"Fair's fair."

Cecily marched to her office, not the least bit happy about this turn of events. The last person she wanted to see at the moment was Captain Jack Sparrow. In fact, the last person she ever wanted to see was Captain Jack Sparrow. After all, she _had_ helped Captain Barbossa steal Sparrow's beloved _Black Pearl_, and that was the sort of thing that could get a woman shot. Why else would he come, if not for revenge?

Unless he wanted something. And that did not sit well with Captain Cecily O'Connor either.

She opened the office door and strode inside. Jack Sparrow was sitting in _her_ chair again, much like the last time he'd set foot in her office. His feet were propped up on her desk, much to her dismay – her desktop was covered in papers, and his boots weren't exactly the pinnacle of cleanliness – and he was picking trinkets up off her desk, examining them closely and occasionally playing with them.

Cecily pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Then she crossed the room to the chair she usually reserved for guests and took a seat across from the other pirate captain. "Captain Sparrow," she greeted him with a rather insincere smile. "My, my, what a surprise. And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He stopped playing with the trinket currently in his hands rather abruptly, looked up at Cecily with wide honey brown eyes, and smiled rather cheekily. Then he placed the trinket back on the table, and spread out his hands in an almost welcoming manner – which was rather odd, considering that _he_ was the guest, _not_ her. "Greetings, my good commodore," he exclaimed rather theatrically. Then he frowned, and placed his palms together, tilting his head forward in a mock bow. "Terribly sorry, I keep forgetting… ex-commodore."

"Captain will suffice," she returned sharply.

Jack felt sudden nostalgia for the days when he'd been under her thumb. He had forgotten that Cecily was so short, and so curvaceous. He'd forgotten that her face was rather pretty under her hard expression, and he'd forgotten that she had very shiny, lovely dark blond hair. All that had left an imprint on him had been her ability to deepen and magnify her voice into a most frightening bellow, her brazen cheekiness, and her quite shocking displays of temper. He remembered her as a fierce (and not completely fair, now that he mentioned it) general, or commodore, or leader… pick a title, give it to her, and tack fierce onto the front of it, and that was how Jack remembered his ex-superior.

Although occasionally she had startled him into behaving for extremely brief periods of time, he mostly remembered watching with great amusement as the short and attractive woman bossed around large groups of men twice her size. Perhaps this venture would not be such a hardship for him, after all.

"Captain O'Connor," he remedied, grinning wide for her, and showing off quite an extensive collection of gold teeth. "I am here to offer ye what can only be described as a once in a lifetime offer, considering the extreme shortness of our lifetimes, and oddly enough it is in fact that very shortness that leads me to make this offer in hopes that ye will accept and assist me on a very important and, if I do say so myself, irresistible venture into parts of the Caribbean yet to be well-explored."

"My, my. What a mouthful," Cecily returned with a deliberate slowness, as if she were determined to do the opposite of whatever he did. If he spoke rapidly, she'd speak slowly. "Best tighten up the loose nuts and bolts in that once in a life time offer o' yers be'ore someone looses an eye."

Jack frowned very slightly, still managing a puzzled grin. "I can't begin to understand ye, I'm afraid. Come again, and be less metaphorical?"

"What's this offer, Captain Sparrow?" she drawled, no trace of a smile on her face. "And why are ye offerin' it to _me_?"

"Ah," he replied, a small, almost rueful grin crossing his lips. "Well, luv, to be frank: ye're all I got."

"How endearing to yer endeavor," she returned, a mockingly flirtatious grin appearing on her face.

"Well, Captain O'Connor, thanks to ye, I've been left without me ship and me crew," he said, clearly hoping to inspire a little guilt in her for the stunt she had helped Barbossa pull off. "And this particular venture I wish to embark upon rather demands the use of a ship, and not a tiny, leaky li'l dinghy. Which is why I've come to ye. Ye have a ship and a crew, and hopefully the desire to venture where I can lead ye. So, here I am, offerin' to lead ye to where I can lead ye."

"Which is where?" she demanded, not befuddled for a moment by his hurried, purposely confusing speech.

"Why to the only place worth going, of course," he replied, as though it should have been obvious. "To the Aqua de Vida."

Cecily paused for a mere moment, and then arched her eyebrow. "The Aqua de Vida?" she repeated flatly.

"Aye, luv. The Aqua de Vida. Just what I said."

She snorted, a wide and amused smile crossing her face. Leaning back in her chair and folding her arms over her chest, she swung her legs up and perched her boots on her desktop, directly next to his. Obviously displeased, the other pirate captain sniffed, and quickly inched his legs away from hers. Cecily threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh come now, darling, I've seen many a strange and unlikely tale turn out true durin' me time on this ocean, but I ain't so gullible as to fall fer that line," she announced, still grinning with amusement. "What do ye take me fer, Jack ol' boy, a bright-eyed young lad named William Turner? Ye ain't goin' to get me dragged into that goose chase, I can guarantee. Why the hell would I e'er consider helpin' ye find the Water o' Life or the Fountain o' Youth, or whate'er the hell that translates to?"

Jack frowned at her, bemused. "Well, I should think that would have been obvious, luv."

"Really? Explain."

"Well, clearly ye would want to help me find the Aqua de Vida in order so that ye may _drink_ the Aqua de Vida, and in so doing, live forever and ever and ever. Are ye darin' to suggest to me that immortality does not appeal to ye?"

"I do more than dare to suggest – I dare to flat out state the fact," she returned. "Live forever and ever and ever? I'd sooner die tomorrow – and yes, I'm aware o' the irony o' that. What do I want with an eternity on this earth? It's been a long hard life already, and I don't think I can handle more than seven or eight decades o' it."

She delivered this speech with a wry smirk that didn't quite seem appropriate, considering the sentiment behind her words. Jack blinked, clearly confused that she would entertain such thoughts. His hand rose delicately to his chest, as though her claims to not crave immortality were enough to make him feel faint. "Ye don't want to live forever?" he asked, sounding both astonished and rather put out by her rejection of his offer.

"Ye _do_?"

"Well of course I do!" Jack returned incredulously. "What fool wouldn't?"

"This fool," Cecily returned. "Ye'd be best to go off and find another ship and crew to take ye to yer li'l castle in the air, Captain Sparrow."

Jack fell into a short sulky silence. He hadn't quite anticipated this turn of events. It had honestly never occurred to him that Cecily O'Connor would reject the possibility of eternal life. In fact, he had imagined quite the opposite would take place – he had imagined her jumping at the chance to live forever.

However, he rebounded quite quickly, giving her a sudden grin and saying, "Well, if the eternal life doesn't do it fer ye, luv, surely the treasure will."

She arched an eyebrow. "Treasure?"

"Haven't ye heard the stories, pet?" he pressed on with a beguiling smile. "Ponce de Leon sailed the Caribbean in hopes o' findin' said Aqua de Vida, and presumably succeeded. They say he hid his wealth there in the caves, and took a flask of the water should ever he need it. Unfortunately, he was shot by a poisoned arrow not much later, and robbed of the flask before he had a chance to drink from it. Poor fellow."

Cecily guffawed. "Ponce de Leon, a poor fellow? Are ye sure ye don't have yer conquistadors mixed up, Captain Sparrow?"

"Ah, yes, well… to each his own," Jack replied, smiling benignly. "Anyway, me point is that there's more to find at the Aqua de Vida than eternal life… there's also treasure to behold. Perhaps gold and silver would be more to yer liking than immortality? Can't say I'd feel the same, but treasure does have its allure fer me as well…"

"Ye want me to sail ye to the Aqua de Vida, with only the promise o' a possible treasure as payment?" Cecily asked incredulously. "Assumin' we even find the Aqua de Vida – and there's a very good chance it doesn't exist, after all. And if it do, then there's many a monster and mythical horror cast about to protect the place. All o' which I'd be forced to slog through fer nothin' but a treasure that's less likely to exist than the Water itself!"

"Well, when ye put it that way, anything sounds like bad idea."

The two of them sat in Cecily's office for a moment, staring at one another calculatingly. Jack was still smiling benignly, with the tips of his fingers pressed together in a rather delicate fashion. Cecily still had her arms crossed in front of her, and was grinning in a rather sly manner. Finally, Jack spoke. "Well, Captain O'Connor," he said, forcing himself to keep smiling. His voice and facial expression were both rather strained. "Give me a hint. What can I offer ye that will tantalize ye into acceptin' me plea fer assistance?"

Cecily shrugged, still smiling, as fake as can be. "Nothin' comes to mind."

"Nothing at all?" he asked. "Can't even _try_ and help me out here? What is it a girl like ye wants, exactly? Ye already turned up yer nose at eternal life and mass amounts of treasure... so what the bloody hell is it that catches yer fancy anyway?"

A slow nasty grin formed on her face. She lifted her arms up in a rather fanciful shrug. "Ye have to ask?" she returned. "Why, it's like ye don't know me at all, darling. And after we sailed together and everything. I'm hurt."

He studied her carefully. "Why, what is it about me that caught yer notice right off the bat?" she pressed. "And don't say me looks, darling, because that ain't the answer we're lookin' fer."

A cocky, cheeky grin appeared on her face. Jack forced a short, insincere chuckle. Cecily continued trying to drop hints. "Think about it, darling. A pirate captain. A pirate captain who turns herself pirate _commodore_ – albeit, temporarily. Who rules the roost singlehandedly? Who barks orders at her fellow captain, and refuses to allow him privilege of equality. Do I have to spell it out fer ye?"

Jack frowned at her for a mere moment. Then his eyes suddenly lit with understanding. "Ah," he said, his fake grin returning. "Of course. How silly and thickheaded of me. I forget yer disposition – yer cheeky, violent, _ambitious_ disposition. So what is it that ye want, Captain O'Connor? Power? From me? I ain't so sure I'm in a position to be handin' that out."

"What sort o' power can a pirate have?" she asked pointedly.

He blinked. "What sort o' power can a pirate give – not just any pirate, but a pirate named Jack Sparrow?" she continued.

Jack still didn't seem to be getting it. "What is the highest rank a pirate can hold?" she asked slowly and deliberately.

He stared at her a moment more. Then, just as it had a few minutes before, understanding once again flickered in his big brown eyes. "I see," he returned. His smile continued to get faker and faker by the second. "Ye want to be a member of the pirate court."

She shrugged, gave him a rather cheeky smile, and relaxed in her chair. "What a lass wants," was all she said.

He scratched at his hair with one finger, sniffed the appendage in question, and made a face that suggested he didn't like what he smelled. Then he picked up one of the trinkets off her desk again, and began tossing it back and forth, from one hand to the other.

"Surely ye don't expect me to give up me piece of eight?" he asked mildly, his eyes following the trinket as it traveled from hand to hand.

"Break that and consider that dreadfully short lifetime o' yers to have just got even shorter," she returned curtly.

Jack froze, trinket in one hand, and then gently sat it back in its place on her desktop. He gave her what was meant to be an assuaging smile and held up his hands in surrender. "Not to worry, luv," he announced. "Yer li'l trinket is safe and sound."

She gave him a nasty smile. "Now, Captain O'Connor," he went on. "As ye must know, me givin' up me lordship is just plain out of the question."

Cecily smirked at him and shrugged once again. "Then I'm afraid me helpin' ye out on yer li'l venture is out o' the question."

Jack found a rage that he usually reserved for Hector Barbossa bubbling up inside of him. He had forgotten that Cecily O'Connor was exasperating. No wonder he hadn't cared for her during his brief period of service under her command. She was purposely making this much more difficult than it had to be. First claiming not to be interested in eternal life – which was codswallop, in his opinion – and then questioning his stories about treasure – which, in all fairness, was actually quite wise, but infuriated him none the less. And now she was demanding his position on the pirate court. That was simply out of the question. Never, never in all his lifetime, whether it was short, or lasted for all eternity, would he _ever_…

Ah. But wait just one moment. Perhaps he didn't have to. Perhaps there was another way.

He looked up at Cecily, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Captain O'Connor, doll, I'm afraid that I would be sorely remiss to give up me spot on the Court of the Brethren. However, I _can_ think of a way that will allow us _both_ a seat on the court."

She stared at him distrustfully, her eyes narrowed. "And what way would that be, Captain Sparrow?" she asked, an insincere, odd little smile playing around her lips.

He swung his legs down from their perch on her desk and stood, beginning to pace back and forth across the room. His hands were up high in the air, and his fingers were fluttering about like hummingbird's wings as he began to speak. "Not long after our brief time together ceased, some other old comrades of ours went off on a search for the sea goddess, Calypso. Surely ye remember Hector, and Lizzy, and Sao Feng?"

"The names ring faint bells," she returned with a smirk.

"Glad to hear it," Jack grinned before continuing. "Well, they found good old Calypso, bound in her bones, as I'm sure ye remember, and attempted to gather the pirate court together once again in order to free her once and for all, presumably so that in the future, another Lord Cutler Beckett would find it quite difficult to rise up as the aforementioned had. Codswallop, in me opinion, but kids these days and their fanciful ideas…"

"Get on with the story, Captain Sparrow," Cecily interrupted impatiently.

"Right. Sorry. Well, Sao Feng somehow got it into his head that Elizabeth Turner was Calypso, so he brought her aboard his ship, and then our old dear friend, William, came sailing up in his _Flying Dutchman_ and tried to save his wife by blowing Sao Feng's ship to bits. Consequently, Sao Feng died and handed the reigns over to Lizzy."

"What do ye mean, handed over the reigns?"

"Well, he made her captain, didn't he? And he handed over his piece of eight, making her not just captain of the _Empress_, but also one of the nine members of the pirate court."

Cecily blinked at him. Jack ignored her and continued with, "So, anyway, to wrap up a long, dreadfully boring story, the nine pirate lords convened, duked it out, and ultimately were tricked into setting the goddess free. Elizabeth Turner now resides in her old home, Port Royal, with her infant son, Will, and is still considered a member of the revered pirate court. That being said, seeing as she is a mother now, and not exactly a captain any longer, her piece of eight may be up fer grabs. And seeing as the two of us are… quite close, I suppose ye might say… I may be able to _persuade_ her into passing the piece along to _ye_."

He stopped his pacing and hand fluttering, bringing his palms together in front of his chest, and turning swiftly to face Cecily. She looked up at him from where she was still seated with her feet on the desk and cocked an eyebrow. A grin formed on his bearded face and he leaned in close to her, saying rather huskily, "What say ye, Captain O'Connor? If I can make you Elizabeth Turner's successor on the pirate court, will ye lend me yer services in findin' the famed Aqua de Vida?"

Cecily studied him with calculating green eyes for a moment, and then allowed a rather sly smirk of her own to cross her face. "All right, then," she agreed. "If ye can win me a spot on the pirate court, I will take ye to the Aqua de Vida."

"Great," Jack exclaimed, standing up straight, and grinning wide. He suddenly became rather businesslike. "Off we go then. Chop, chop, time's awastin'… and I'm rather on a deadline, ye see…"

"Not so fast, Captain Sparrow," Cecily interrupted, getting to her feet as well. She was still smiling in that sly, unsettling manner, and now approached him rather slowly, and almost seductively. He swallowed nervously. The look on her face did little to set him at ease, and he began to wonder exactly what he'd just gotten himself into.

"I ain't so much a fool that I'd be lettin' ye hustle me, ye understand?" she announced. "Ye'll get yer Aqua de Vida, if it exists, that I promise ye – but only _after_ I get me piece o' eight."

He blinked at her. "Come again?"

"Our first stop on this suicidal venture will be Port Royal," she went on. "Where ye will convince Elizabeth Turner to make me her successor. And when that piece o' eight is sitting in me hands at long last, and I am finally considered a member o' the Court o' the Brethren, then and only then will we continue our voyage to the island o' the Aqua de Vida."

Jack didn't care for this plan, and his face made his sentiments quite clear. Cecily's sly smile did not falter. "Take it or leave it, Captain Sparrow," she murmured softly.

Finally, he forced his own grin to reappear on his face. "But of course," he agreed, arms spread wide in a surrendering fashion. "First, yer seat on the court, and _then_ my immortality. As ye wish."

Her sly smile faded into something much more cheeky. "Fantastic," she practically chirped, extending her hand. "Do we have an accord, darling?"

Jack shook her hand, albeit in a rather disgruntled fashion. "Aye, luv," he agreed, still wearing an insincere smile on his face. "We have an accord."

* * *


End file.
